


pillow fort

by lovelylogans



Series: sanders sides platonic week [5]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Food mention, Gen, pillow forts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2020-12-17 18:17:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21058844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelylogans/pseuds/lovelylogans
Summary: It was unseasonably, unreasonably cold.





	pillow fort

**Author's Note:**

> this is set the same night as royality's, next work in the series!

It was unseasonably, unreasonably cold.

This was the thought that plagued Logan as he prepared the kettle of hot chocolate (caffeine would be less than constructive, this late, even thought he and Virgil both enjoyed it) and he scowled at the tray he was preparing.

Patton and Roman had informed Logan and Virgil of their plans to go to Roman’s realm, that evening, so Logan and Virgil would have the commons for the evening. What they were going to do, Logan wasn’t sure. But for whatever reason, the heating had seemingly vanished, and Logan was left wondering where his Christmas sweater had gone.

Logan brought in the tray as Virgil glanced up from where he was sorting DVDs, and Logan set the tray down on the coffee table, about to pour them two mugs when footsteps approached.

“Bye, nerds,” Roman called as he and Patton passed the living room, and Logan scowled as Patton smacked him fondly on the arm before calling out, “Have a fun night in, you two! Don’t wait up!”

They didn’t wait for any goodbyes on Virgil and Logan’s behalf, and Logan and Virgil shared a fondly exasperated glance before Logan handed over Virgil’s mug.

“Why is it so _cold?”_ Logan said, irritable.

“Maybe Patton and Roman are going somewhere warm so Roman’s just adjusted the whole mindscape down a few degrees,” Virgil said with a shrug. “Maybe someone subconsciously wants to be cold. Maybe our world is collapsing and we’ll enter a spontaneous ice age.”

“Incredibly unlikely,” Logan informed him, wrapping his hands around his mug. “The opposite, however...”

Virgil paused, and Logan lowered his mug. “No destruction-of-the-world talk?”

“Not until later,” Virgil decided, and Logan nodded in agreement, eyeing Virgil’s hoodie with the slightest bit of jealousy. 

Virgil put on a playlist of music in the background, something a bit more... _chill,_ than his usual tastes. Both of them situated themselves with their entertainment for the evening (for Virgil, a notebook he guarded with utmost secrecy; for Logan, a memoir that he had been meaning to read for quite a while) and settled on the couch. Virgil at one end, Logan at the other, their bodies and legs parallel to each other. Virgil knocked knees with Logan, and Logan rolled his eyes before he knocked knees back, and buried his nose into his book.

It took twenty-seven minutes for Logan to sigh, admit defeat, and knock his knees with Virgil again.

“Would you let me out? I’m going to get a blanket.”

Without looking up from his notebook, Virgil tucked his knees up to his chest and held up his empty mug; Logan sighed and collected it, as well as his own. 

Blanket balanced on his arm, and two new mugs of cocoa in hand, Logan made his way back to the couch, handing Virgil his mug, setting down his own, and getting situated under the blanket, tucking it around his legs and pulling it up to his chest as he focused on the memoir again.

It took thirteen more minutes for Virgil to knock knees with him again, and Logan glanced up.

“Let me share the blanket,” Virgil said.

“Get your own,” Logan sniffed. “You’re already wearing a hoodie, you have more warmth than I do.”

“Yeah, but isn’t, like, sharing body heat good for getting warm, or whatever?”

“Hmph. While that is true, I doubt that it would help. We’ve been sitting in close quarters and it hasn’t helped either of us particularly much.”

“Wait,” Virgil said, and narrowed his eyes at Logan. “Either of us?”

Logan curled his fingers around his hot chocolate mug, and cleared his throat, “Well,” he said, “it’s not like there’s a thermostat in here. There isn’t much we can do to fix this problem.”

Virgil kicked Logan in the hip. “Defeatist attitude is _my_ thing, Nic-cold-la Tesla.”

Logan’s lip curled. “_Nic-cold-la.”_

“Okay, I’ve been spending time around Patton, sue me,” Virgil grumbled. “There’s gotta be some way of making this place warm again.”

“Short of storming into Roman’s realm, disrupting _whatever_ he and Patton are doing, and braving the subsequent argument—“

“No, I mean, something _we_ can do. Blankets aren’t really helping, warm drinks are nice but not a permanent solution, body heat isn’t working—“

“Hm,” Logan murmured, marked his place in his memoir and set it aside, before placing his hands together under his chin in thought, before abruptly, a frankly _childish_ idea occurred to him, and he pulled a face reflexively.

“What was that?” Virgil asked. “Idea?”

“A bad one,” Logan scoffed.

“Better than nothing,” Virgil said, and Logan scratched at his neck, wrinkling his nose.

“It’s—_silly.”_

“If it helps get me warmer, I don’t really care.” Virgil said, and kicked Logan’s hip again. “Tell.”

“Well,” Logan began, and huffed out a breath. “We would... require more blankets. And perhaps need to move the furniture around.”

Virgil seemed to catch onto the idea, and he smirked. “A _blanket fort?”_

“I told you it was silly,” Logan said. “I mean—it would provide an enclosed space, and a manner of shelter. If we used heavier blankets, it would provide insulation, and—no. It’s silly. We’ll think of something else—“

Virgil paused, glanced around, and said in an undertone, “I won’t tell the others if you won’t.”

Logan, similarly, glanced around, and looked back at Virgil. “It would, ah. Behoove this exercise. If we were to dress warmly, as well. And comfortably. Perhaps... with certain wardrobe choices we wouldn’t, ah. Normally show. In front of the others.”

Virgil’s lips twitched. “So... we’ll get changed. And bring down the blankets from our rooms.”

“Yes. And perhaps some of the ones from the linen closet.”

“...and maybe some snacks. Just, you know. For energy.”

“Right. Of course. We’ll meet back here with the necessary supplies, then.”

It took fourteen minutes for Logan to descend the stairs, dressed for the occasion, balancing armfuls of blankets, duvets, sheets, and pillows, and to see Virgil, outfitted in a [cat onesie](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ee/c6/7e/eec67ef6840882135ea572907f222e24.jpg), sorting out a tray full of junk food, a pile of similarly soft and fluffy building supplies beside him.

“So,” Logan said, pulling off _refined_ and _professional_ remarkably well for someone in a baby blue unicorn onesie, “How large do you suppose this fort should be? We should keep in mind that we will be responsible for putting all of this away, after all.”

“Mm,” Virgil said, and frowned. “Well, big enough that we’ve got space if we need it, but small enough that we don’t have to ransack the other’s rooms for _their_ blankets and pillows.”

“Agreed,” Logan said. “The first order of business should be moving the couch and coffee table, so we have more floor surface to work with.”

They decided a variety of things; the floor should be covered in pillows, and those pillows should be covered in blankets. They would use the TV, the sofa, and the coffee table as areas to help lift the blankets up. They prepared another kettle of cocoa to go with their snacks. 

It took approximately forty-eight minutes to assemble it to their satisfaction, and Logan surveyed it, before nodding and dropping to his knees to crawl inside, Virgil following close after. 

“When’s the last time we did this, you think?” Virgil mused. “Built a blanket fort, I mean.”

“Easily years ago,” Logan said, laying down, carefully situating himself so he had enough support for his head. “Not for a while. I can’t recall an exact age.”

“Me either,” Virgil said, relaxing, which seemed oxymoronic. “We did a pretty good job, didn’t we?”

There’s the TV, providing a muted glow over them. The floor is now soft and fluffy. The blankets make the incoming light hazy and multi-colored, dappling them in odd shadows. The whole effect is rather... cozy.

“It seems so, yes,” Logan said.

Virgil reached for a spare blanket, wrapping himself up, and Logan followed suit. 

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” Virgil asked, gesturing to the TV. “Since we’re both here, I mean. Seems like a waste to have it on and not play anything.”

“Sure,” Logan said, setting aside the memoir. “Do you have anything in mind?”

“I thought you could pick from these,” Virgil said, nudging over the DVDs he’d been sorting when Logan walked into the room. _Cosmos__, Planet Earth, When We Left Earth, National Geographic: Mysteries of the Past, Curiosity with Stephen Hawking._ Logan paused, and figured that Virgil had selected these movies due to their shared interests, and allowed a small smile to cross his face.

“_Cosmos,”_ Logan decided, holding up the DVD. “It’s been a while since we watched it last.” Virgil accepted it, and fed it into the player.

Logan poured himself another mug of cocoa, pulled the snacks closer to him and Virgil, and settled in for an evening listening to Neil deGrasse Tyson. Virgil knocked his shoulder against his, and Logan carefully reciprocated, as a means of displaying fond camaraderie.

“The cosmos is all there is, or ever was, or ever will be,” Neil deGrasse Tyson began, and Logan paused, before he leaned his head against Virgil’s shoulder, listening closely.


End file.
